breakup & aftermath through the eyes of an obsessive compulsive girl

meet cute
shoplifted kisses
caught with a handful of wrinkled metallic wrappers
and flaming cheeks,
lips stretched into a Cheshire cat grin
call it a minor milk chocolate sin
and so it follows...
1 a.m. phone calls
arguing music and philosophy until our eyes are bleary
and heads drop onto pillows nodding to the response from the
other line's static;
daisies plucked in undenouncing fury
he loves me, he loves me not
palms engraved with an infinity of lines
consult the vaguest fortune teller
(but aren't those his initials stenciled into your future?)
brittle bits of paper stuck onto the walls
and slowly peeling upon prompting of
uncracked toes
poking at the wall paper
popping Motrin 600 goddesses like candy
naughty hands reaching out for
one
last
touch

and so it unravels...
gay boys and a dozen rubber duckies flaunting their yellow sheen
quack up those legs slathered in frothy shaving cream,
waddle in the bathtub overflowing
with the stagnant bath water of two weeks before
and so we resort to sorcery...
porcelain dolls with cracked skulls and cactus prickly hair
vengeful ex girlfriends chanting improvised incantations,
clinging to unceasing obsessions
the help of a spell book and the items du jour
blood samples and hair clippings

we've got one scum sucking bastard down,
two to go